


The Dinner Dance

by tangledupinmist



Series: 2018 Nonnatus Holiday Card Exchange fics [3]
Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/M, New Year's Eve, couple time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 08:12:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17240645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangledupinmist/pseuds/tangledupinmist
Summary: Patrick finally suceeded in taking Shelagh to the dinner dance on New Year's Eve 1963. Are they going to have a good time?





	The Dinner Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ginchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginchy/gifts).



> This is part II of my little Christmas Fic Nothing bad can happen to us, as requested by ginchy.  
> Happy New Year to all my fellow Nonnatuns and really everyone over here.

**The Dinner Dance**

„Ah now, who is this? Look, a fairy has come to visit us!“ Patrick shouted excitedly.

“Nooo, it’s Mummy, can’t you see?” Angela cried, and ran towards her mother who meanwhile had descended the last step of the stair. Shelagh put one arm around her daughter and one around her foster daughter, little May. The little girl had come to live with them just a week ago and was following Angela’s lead everywhere.

“Of course it’s me,” Shelagh laughed. “Do you like my new dress?”

Angela smiled and nodded while her father was watching the little scene, almost bursting with pride. Just after Christmas, he and Shelagh had managed to spend a few hours all by themselves, during which they had visited Selfridges to pick out a new festive dress for Shelagh. As much as she had added to her wardrobe during the past years, she had not yet been able (nor in need of) buying a ball gown.

Her new dress was long and slim-fitted, made of night blue silk with short sleeves and a neckline slightly more exposing than what she usually wore. Shelagh had added a pair of long cream-coloured gloves and a matching jacket as well as a silver necklace with a small silver cross.

“You have the most beautiful mother in the world,” Patrick said, pride colouring his voice. “But I am afraid we have to get going or else we will be late for our dinner dance.”

Polly, their neighbour’s daughter and babysitter for the night, approached the small group from the living room where she had been playing with Teddy. “Now, say good bye to Mummy and Daddy, loves, and then I am going to read your night time story to you.”

The Turners happily kissed their children good bye, then Patrick helped his wife into her coat and ushered her outside to their car.

The couple spent the 30 minute drive to the Dorchester Hotel in silence, both revelling in each other’s company while enjoying a bit of peace and quiet after another busy day with three little ones at home and just before a room full of dozens of other doctors and their chatty wives.

The annual dinner dance was a tradition Patrick’s cohort of fellow GPs in training had started in 1935. They had managed to keep up the tradition even during the war, even though each year they had had to mourn the loss of another few of their lot. After the war, the committee responsible for the organization had suggested they add more doctors, colleagues from other specializations, too, to enlarge the group and thus the dinner dance had become quite a major event with about 300 participants.

When they entered the ballroom, the Turners immediately were greeted by a dark-haired, bearded man, who seemed to have been on the lookout for them, since he was so quick in discovering them.

“Shelagh, how is it that you are getting more beautiful by the day?” the man greeted her, while holding Shelagh by her upper arms and heartily kissing her on both cheeks. Shelagh winced slightly, clearly uncomfortable with such an intimate way of greeting.

“Now Greg, careful. Her dance card is already full for tonight,” Patrick replied in a mock-angry voice. “No false hopes, please.”

The man raised his eyebrows and smirked at Patrick. “Now, Patrick, I think she can speak for herself. And I am absolutely certain that I will be able to convince your beautiful wife to dance with me more than once tonight.”

Shelagh blushed, clearly not used to flirting, and uncomfortable to attract the attentions of quite a few bystanders. She knew Dr Gregory Thompson, one of Patrick’s oldest friends, for almost five years. He was one of their two wedding witnesses and enjoyed flirting with her as with many women, only Shelagh didn’t quite enjoy it as much as he did.

For friendships’ sake Shelagh decided to laugh away her embarrassment and said: “Oh Patrick, I am sure you may let me catch up with Greg just for the length of one waltz.” Patrick smiled at his wife affectionately and Shelagh cocked her head at Gregory. “I am sure we can sneak off for another one if we find him someone who is familiar with the latest ulcer research,” she added, feeling slightly more confident after Patrick had placed his left hand on the small of her back, supporting her both physically and emotionally.

Gregory was a tall, very handsome man who looked quite a few years younger than his age. When she had first met him, Shelagh had instantly liked him, despite his flirty behaviour. She had somehow felt that he was wearing it like she had been wearing her habit, to shield him off from a world he didn’t quite fit in.

A few months into their marriage Shelagh had finally felt confident enough to ask Patrick why he thought Gregory had never married. Patrick had carefully explained that Gregory wasn’t particularly interested in women, thereby confirming what Shelagh had assumed in secret but was wary to say out loud.  

Gregory and Patrick had shared a dorm room during their first years at university and had remained close friends during and after the war. Shelagh knew the story how Gregory had been the one introducing Patrick to his late first wife, Marianne. Marianne had been a nurse, and Gregory had brought her as his date to one of the dinner dances before the war. A few months after, Patrick and Marianne had become a couple, Shelagh knew.

While she was still self-consciously trying to fully relax in the presence of Gregory, she was startled by a loud voice from behind.

“Now, if it isn’t the Turners,” a familiar bass roared from behind. Ted Horringer, another close friend of Patrick’s, approached the small group, his wife Kathryn at his side. Ted shook hands with Shelagh, Patrick and Gregory. Then he said: “I never thought I would see you two here,” Ted exclaimed. “What a lovely surprise. You know, he used to be a regular. Now look at you, the couple defying all medical laws,” Ted said towards Shelagh and paused, his face suddenly falling with him noticing he had said something wrong while at the same time receiving a painful puff into his side from his wife.

Shelagh watched Patrick’s face momentarily lose its happy expression and realized that he and Marianne had regularly attended the dinner dance and he had never again attended ever since he remarried. She suddenly felt very self-conscious again, like an intruder. His friends probably thought she had kept him from attending all those years, she thought.

Shelagh felt Patrick’s left hand lightly move up and down on the small of her back and the warmth his body radiating into her own after he had moved a bit closer to her. “Well, we have been quite busy with our family, and work. I’ve been wanting to take Shelagh for years, but we only managed now.”

“Now, good evening everyone. Sorry, loves, I think Ted must have already had a few glasses at home. Ever since the last of the girls has left home he has become a bit too much out of hand over the holidays,” Kathryn apologized on behalf of her husband.

Ted smiled ruefully and nodded towards Shelagh. Shelagh always felt self-conscious in his presence. He was a very outgoing person, always the centre of attention in every room he was in. He was an expert in his field, a very sought-after medical expert on fertility, the kind of person coming with natural authority, but he wasn’t always a gentleman when it came to dealing with his friends’ wives.  

“Patrick Turner, how long, ten years?” a man of Patrick’s age, a bit smaller in height, red-haired and fair skinned, said, appearing from behind. Patrick turned half around and looked at the new arrival for just a second before greeting him: “Well, if it isn’t Ralphie, my, my, how are you doing, old lad?” The two men eagerly shook hands and before Patrick could introduce Shelagh, the man he had called Ralphie turned towards her, looked her up and down and said: “Forgive me, but have we met before? How come Patrick is always bringing the most beautiful women?” He quickly glanced at Kathryn and added: “No offense intended, but we all know about Ted.”

Shelagh blushed and Patrick introduced the two: “This is my wife for almost five years, Shelagh. Shelagh, this is Dr Ralph Marsh, another one of our lot.”

Shelagh and Ralphie shook hands, with Ralphie holding hers clearly longer than what would be considered appropriate. She quickly retreated it and Ralphie said to Patrick: “Tell me, she was your practice nurse, right?” Patrick smiled a pained smile and said: “Yes, we met while at work.”

“My, my, I didn’t know Poplar attracted such beautiful girls. I should have taken that post back then,” Ralphie smirked. “You know,” he addressed Shelagh, “I was hopelessly in love with Marianne Parker but she wouldn’t hear me out as our Patrick here had already turned her head, lord knows how.”

Shelagh felt her cheeks getting even more flushed and noticed from the corner of her eyes how her husband was at a loss of words. The Turners were once more saved by the practical Kathryn who reprimanded their friend: “Now, Ralphie, we all know your history with women. I was going to suggest we have a drink but considering you lot I think it isn’t advisable for you three”, she nodded towards her husband, Ralphie and Greg, all stood next to each other. “Perhaps you may want to catch up among yourselves while the Turners are going to entertain me over a glass of Champagne. I’ll see the rest of you for dinner.”

After a few moments, the Turners and Kathryn had received a glass of sparkling wine each and were exchanging some stories about their children when Patrick was approached by another old friend. After introducing his wife to him, the men began a conversation updating each other about their professional news of the past years while Shelagh tried to think of something to tell to Kathryn.

“I am very sorry, I have to apologize for Ted. For all of them, really,” the older woman said.

“Oh no, it’s nothing,” Shelagh replied. “I understand. There is a history you all share which I am not part in. It may just take me a few more years until I am more familiar with all of it,” she added, chuckling shyly.

Kathryn shook her head energetically. “Oh no, please. I know how embarrassing it can be among their lot. Back in the day we had our struggles to keep them in order, I can tell you. I think it must be very hard of you. Everyone reminding you of Marianne. This really isn’t fair. We all loved her, and we love Patrick. And we are very happy he has found another wife and is so happy with you and your family. So we all are loving you, too. It’s just the lads can’t really show it. Not when they have already had a few too many drinks anyway,” Kathryn added in a critical tone.

Shelagh smiled understandingly and the two women kept talking about their families and professional backgrounds – Kathryn had also trained as a nurse but given up work before the war when she had gotten married to Ted – until dinner was served.

Two hours later, the dancing was on in full swing. After Patrick and Shelagh had already been dancing with each other for a while, when Ted approached the couple. “Patrick, may I steal you wife for a while? You must be tired, old chap, why don’t you sit down for a while,” he chuckled, causing Patrick to playfully hitting his friend on the arm.

Patrick looked at his wife with a questioning look and when Shelagh nodded approvingly, he retreated, making room for Ted. Ted immediately said: “I am sorry, Shelagh, I sincerely hope you are going to accept my invitation and grant me a dance,” he said. Shelagh nodded with a shy smile and Ted began swirling Shelagh around. “What I said was very rude and thoughtless and I apologize. It was entirely unprofessional.”

Shelagh blushed slightly and smiled at Ted. “No, Ted, it’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Ted replied ruefully. “I can tell you are still a bit out of order. And Kathryn must already have reprimanded me about ten times for my immature behaviour.”

Shelagh smiled, more sneeringly this time. “And you think Kathryn is going to let you feel it later tonight if you don’t set things straight with me?”

Ted raised his eyebrows: “My my Mrs Turner, I didn’t know you could be this cheeky,” he chuckled.

Shelagh cocked her head: “I have a husband and two sons, I have learned my share of how to deal with men.”

Ted roared with laughter, drawing a very puzzled look from Patrick to him and Shelagh. They kept dancing for a while in silence until Ted said: “You know, I have known Patrick for quite some time now and I can tell he is very happy. We all knew Marianne and while we are dearly missing her, I think none of us could be happier for him. For the two of you.”

“Thank you, Ted, this is very kind.”

“I mean it.”

The two danced yet for another while until Patrick, eager to protect his wife from yet another well-meaning but overstepping friend, reclaimed Shelagh. He watched her while the music slowed down and they swayed across the ballroom. Her cheeks were red, this time flushed from the warmth of dancing and a few glasses of sparkling wine, a luxury the Turners hadn’t indulged themselves in ever since their wedding day.

Midnight approached rapidly and when the clock struck twelve, Patrick and Shelagh shared their sixth new year’s kiss, welcoming 1964 (though the first one technically only happened on the morning of January 1 st , 1959). They sang “Auld Lang Syne” and danced one last dance, during which Patrick whispered into Shelagh’s ear: “If I am reading your face correctly, you would like me to take you home now, am I right?”

Shelagh smiled a loving smile and nodded. Thus the Turners went for their coats and drove home. Silently, as on the drive to the hotel. This time, though, Patrick’s left hand rested on Shelagh’s thigh whenever he didn’t have to shift the gears.

After Patrick had parked the car in front of the house, he got out, walked around it and opened the passenger door. It was a surprisingly mild night, completely different from the record-breaking freezing temperatures from exactly one year ago. “We never seem to go for a walk again, how about we have a short one now?” Patrick asked quietly and extended his arm towards Shelagh.

“Now?” Shelagh said in a surprised voice, but smiled warmly and hooked her arm through her husband’s.

“Thank you for taking me out tonight, Patrick”, she said while leaning into Patrick’s side, after they had walked for a few steps.

Patrick smiled and placed a quick kiss on his wife’s hair before replying: “I am sorry it started with a bit of a rough time. The lads, they seem to think they can still act as they did back in 1935.”

Shelagh laughed.

“What is it, dear?” Patrick asked, alarmed.

“I was just thinking how this sounds,” Shelagh explained. “In 1935 I was just nine years old. And do you know how you told me that just a few years ago how GP was a young man’s game? Well, don’t be angry with me, but your lot of friends isn’t quite that young anymore.”

Patrick was quiet for a moment before he decided to laugh. “Well yes, and you are going to hold this against me for the rest of my life, I assume?”

Shelagh’s expression became earnest again. “I am sorry, Patrick, I didn’t mean to imply –.”

She was interrupted by her husband: “Oh no, love, I am aware how ridiculous this sounds. But you have to grant me this, having you and the children, I do feel a lot younger than most of those old doctors that gave you such a hard time tonight.”

“Oh no, Patrick, don’t,” Shelagh said. “It wasn’t that bad. I did have a good time after all. I can see how you do have a history with them of which I am not a part.”

They walked in silence for a while before Shelagh began speaking again: “When we got married I knew that there was another Mrs Turner before me. And while it sometimes bothers me when people are bringing it up, because I know it is making you sad, I am well aware that Marianne is a part of your life and of Tim’s, too. You wouldn’t be what you are without her. How could I ever be troubled if someone mentioned her?”

Patrick stopped, bringing Shelagh to a halt, too. He looked at her with an expression of adoration in his face and said: “Thank you, love. Have a happy new year. Let us never forget how lucky we are.”

Shelagh smiled warmly at her husband. She leaned in and they both shared a long kiss.


End file.
